


Crop Circles

by icandrawamoth



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on a Tumblr Post, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire seeks to escape the stress of finals by making snow crop cricles. Jehan stumbles across him at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crop Circles

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post - http://shriekables.tumblr.com/post/80277696149/he-should-drop-out-and-get-aliens-to-pay-him-to-do

The cold air and crunch of snow beneath Grantaire’s boots makes him feel alive in a completely different way than the anxiety finals have had pricking under his skin all week, and the way he moves, shuffling in careful, perfect circles, completing one shape to take a step out and repeat the process, slow, precise, soothes his frazzled nerves. He pauses at the completion of one rotation and looks over his work. It’s big, covering most if the baseball field, nearly finished. He’s been at it for nearly an hour. He knows it’ll be destroyed in not too long when the first of the commuters start walking to class from the nearby parking lot, but he still feels a little pride, wondering what they’ll think of when they see it. And of course he’ll take pictures so he can remember it later.

Snow crunches behind him, and he turns to look. Another boy is standing there on the nearby path, bathed in the soft yellow light of the lamp. He tilts his head curiously, red curls spilling from beneath a green and purple pompon hat. “Did you make this?”

"Yeah," Grantaire tells him a bit defensively, sticking his chilled hands in his pockets because in his desperate bid to escape the piles of books and notes in his room he had forgotten his gloves. He dares the boy with his eyes to say that it’s stupid or that he shouldn’t be doing it.

Instead, he is surprised when he says, “It’s neat. Can I help?”

"If you want." Grantaire shrugs noncommittally, but he can’t hide a little smile. "S’almost done anyway."

"Cool, thanks." The boy trumps over enthusiastically. "What do you want me to do?"

"You can work on the next circle, just keep like a foot in between that and the last one for where I’m doing mine."

"Okay. I’m Jehan, by the way," he says as he starts to slowly and carefully make his circle.

"Grantaire." He resumes his own movements. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"I could ask the same of you, besides making snow crop circles."

"Fair enough. Finals are driving me crazy, and I guess I just needed to get out for a bit."

"Same." Jehan looks up at him and grins, his happiness infectious. "School is all well and good but sometimes you just need a break."

Grantaire nods, and they continue working. “Another?” Jehan asks a few minutes later when he finishes his circle. Grantaire surveys the design and considers. “One more each ought to do it, I think,” he decides, and they set off again in companionable silence.

"Today we woke up to a revolution of snow," Jehan begins to murmur as they work. "Its white flag waving over everything, the landscape vanished…"

"You’re a poet then?" Grantaire inquires, and he nods.

"And I’d hazard you’re some kind of artist?"

"Painter mostly. Some would disagree about ‘artist.’"

They lapse into silence again, and soon the piece in complete. They step back to survey their work.

"You know," Jehan says with a little giggle, "you could drop out and get aliens to pay you for this."

Grantaire laughs, the sound carrying in the dark, cold air. “Don’t tempt me.”

Jehan smiles, and a shiver runs through him. Grantaire is feeling the chill more himself now that he has been out so long and is no longer moving. “We should probably head back before we end up popsicles. Thanks for your help.”

"Thanks for letting me intrude on your masterpiece. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?"

Grantaire nods, slipping out his phone to snap a few pictures. “Sure. Good luck with your finals.”

"Thanks, you too. Goodnight, Grantaire."

Grantaire returns the sentiment and turns to watch him fade back into the dark from the direction he’d come. Feeling blessedly saner than he had a few hours ago, he soon follows.

**Author's Note:**

> Jehan quotes from Billy Collins’s “Snow Day.”


End file.
